Intervention

by Terri Blackstock

  She set her chin. “I might see something … someone … that you don’t see.”

  “Look, Barbara, I have the video experts in the state police lab going over the tapes. Showing them to you wouldn’t accomplish anything. I’m not making any deals with you. But if you have something to show me, something that would help us find Emily, then you need to give it to me.”

  Finally, she let out a long breath, pulled some papers out of her purse, slid them across the table. “I printed out all of Trish Massey’s blogs from MySpace and Facebook.”

  He knew that if she’d printed out Trish’s, she had Emily’s too. She was holding back, but it didn’t matter. Andy had already downloaded them.

  He took the pages and flipped through them, skimming passages from Trish’s blog that Barbara had highlighted. He’d read more than this in her emails. “I’ll read every word,” he said.

  She sat back then, her shoulders slumped with their burden.

  “We both need to get some sleep,” he said.

  She rubbed her eyes. “I can’t. My Emily texted me for help. How can I sleep when I know she’s waiting?”

  “At least you know she’s alive. There’s nothing you can do for the rest of the night, unless you hear from her again, so you might as well rest. Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”

  They got all the nachos in boxes, then crossed the parking lot to the hotel. If the press were there, they weren’t visible.

  He followed her in and they rode silently up on the elevator. When they reached the room, he hung back from the door as she stuck her key card in.

  “Thank you for rescuing me,” she said quietly.

  “No problem.”

  “And for the walk home.”

  “Glad to do it.”

  She opened the door and heard the television. It was a news channel. “Lance?”

  She stepped inside and saw him sleeping, fully clothed, on top of the bedspread. He stretched awake. “Hey.”

  “He okay?” Kent asked from the doorway.

  “Yes, he’s fine. Thanks again, Kent.”

  She started back to the door, but he heard Emily’s name on the television. She stopped and turned to the screen. Kent took a step inside her door to see what they were saying.

  The television anchor had clearly been talking about Emily for some time. “Sources tell us that Emily Covington went from the airport parking garage to the taxi line, and left the airport in a cab belonging to Capital Cab Company. She allegedly paid with Trish Massey’s credit card.”

  “What?” Barbara shouted. “That’s not true! She got into that Infiniti. Why would they say that?”

  Kent closed his eyes, wishing he’d never come here. He waited as a reporter interviewed a cab driver.

  “Are you the driver who took Emily Covington away from the airport last night?”

  “No, but I talked to the guy who did. He works for Capital Cab, and he says he picked the girl up and dropped her off at a motel. Said a man was with her, and they used the dead woman’s credit card.”

  Barbara sucked in a breath. “That’s the first I’ve heard of that.” She swung around to Kent. “Did you talk to the cab company?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, what did they say? Is it true that Emily got into a cab?”

  “It’s true that someone did. We haven’t confirmed that it was Emily.”

  “But how could it be her, when you saw tape of her getting into that Infiniti?”

  “The Infiniti could have gotten Emily safely out of the garage, then dropped her off by the cabs.”

  “No, that doesn’t make sense. She would have wanted to go for help.”

  “Unless she did it.”

  “She didn’t do it!” she yelled.

  She paced the room, rubbing her temples. “Do you have footage from the cab-stand during that time frame? There must be a security camera in that area.”

  “We studied it, but didn’t see Emily. We weren’t able to isolate that specific cab. Barbara, I can’t answer any more of your questions. There are things that we’re not ready to disseminate to the public yet.”

  “I’m not the public. I am her mother!”

  “And you’re emotional right now, and the press may convince you that if you just spill it all to them, they’ll help you investigate. And that could ruin everything.”

  “Well, maybe that’s true. If they know the cab driver and he knows the motel, then we could find Emily. She could be there right now.”

  “We already went there and didn’t find her. I’m doing my job, Barbara. And before you think of going there yourself, that place is a drug den, worse than where you were tonight.”

  “Oh, dear God.” She turned back to Lance and their eyes locked, as if they didn’t know what to believe. Clearly, stealing a credit card and going to a drug-infested motel sounded like something Emily could have done.

  He started back to the door.

  “Kent.”

  He turned back.

  “Emily’s trapped somewhere and needs help! By God, I’m going to find a way to get to her! With or without you.”

  The message to Kent was clear. He’d better find Emily before Barbara got herself killed.

  twenty-four

  It was midnight by the time Kent left. Barbara checked messages on Lance’s cell phone, listening for any leads the press were hinting at to make her call them back.

  “I’ve been on the computer almost the whole time you were gone,” Lance said, eating the nachos. “Emily’s friends are all over this, trying to figure out if she had any dope dealers mad at her.”

  She shot him a look. “Dope dealers? I hadn’t even considered that.”

  “Well, sure. If she got some dope and didn’t pay up, bad things would happen. I’ve heard of dealers setting houses on fire for not being paid. Families almost getting killed.”

  “What? Where have you heard of that?” They lived in a white-collar neighborhood in a nice, clean community.

  “People talk, okay? And I see it all the time on TV. You have to at least consider it, Mom.”

  “How would they even know to find her in the Atlanta airport? We tried every way we knew to keep her from contacting her friends before she left.”

  “Yeah, but how do you know Trish didn’t let her call someone after she called you? She let her sit alone on the plane, let her take dope on the way. Emily has her ways, Mom. She’s smart … or stupid, however you want to look at it. Oh, and I got a list of her MySpace friends from Atlanta.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep.” He handed her the list he’d written on a sheet of the hotel stationery. “There are twelve of them, and about twenty more from areas around Atlanta. I was going to email them and ask them if they know where Emily is, but I thought they’d just lie. It might be better if we found out where they lived and showed up at their houses.”

  Barbara sat back down in front of the computer. “You have their addresses?”

  “Um … well, no. That’s the problem.”

  “So how will we know where to find them?”

  “Easy, Mom. You read their blogs, check out their profiles, and you can find out all sorts of things like what school they go to, what kind of car they drive, even their parents’ names. It doesn’t take much snooping. Once you get the parents’ names, you can look them up in the phone book.”

  “Have you done that?”

  “I was just at the snooping stage. I took a lot of notes. Ariel Carter’s mother has been married six times, so it’s a little complicated, but she hates her step-dad and writes about him a lot. She calls him Pinhead most of the time, but I found one blog with his full name. Oh, and this other kid on there? She admitted that her dad is abusive and cracked her skull last month. There ought to be some kind of law.”

  “There is.”

  “Anyway, she mentioned his first name, so I think we can look them up. And some of Emily’s Atlanta friends live on their own. Most of them probably use cell phones,
so they’re hard to look up.”

  They had their work cut out for them.

  “Know what, Mom? I’m pretty good at this stuff. I just might be a cop when I grow up.”

  She knew he was baiting her. Swallowing the cotton in her throat, she said, “You’re right, son. You are good at this. You’re a big help.”

  “Glad you brought me?”

  “Of course.”

  “Don’t lie. You wouldn’t be leaving me all by myself in this room if you were glad.”

  She sighed. “You really had no business going where I went tonight. I had no business going there. You were right. It was a big mistake. A wrong address in a very scary area. I’m thankful Kent showed up when he did.”

  “He seems pretty cool.”

  “I guess.” She pulled the phone book out of the bed table, opened it and turned to the Yellow Pages.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “The Capital Cab Company. I’ve got to talk to the cab driver who picked Emily up. He can tell me where he took her … and if it was even her.”

  “Great idea, Mom. You’re not bad at this stuff, either.”

  He got the computer and lay on the bed, his sock feet against the wall where the headboard stood. Barbara dialed the number and waited as the dispatcher answered.

  “Capital Cab.”

  “Hi, this is Barbara Covington. I have a problem, and I wondered if you could help me.”

  “Do you need a cab?”

  “No, I just need to talk to someone about a passenger who rode in one of your cabs last night.”

  “I’m sorry, but this line is for dispatch. We’re not talking to the press.”

  So they’d gotten other calls. “I’m not the press. I’m the mother of the missing girl.”

  “I recommend you talk to the police.”

  “I have. Can I speak to a supervisor, please?”

  “Offices are closed.”

  Barbara refused to give up. “Were you working last night?”

  The woman grunted. “Yes.”

  “I need to talk to the driver who took her. Can you give me his name and a way to reach him?”

  “If you call back tomorrow … ”

  She snapped. “By tomorrow, my daughter may already be dead!”

  Silence.

  “Please, just tell me who picked her up. Can you radio the driver and tell him that if he won’t talk to me, I can only conclude that maybe he hurt her?”

  “Ma’am, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Then why can’t he talk to me? It might save her life, unless he has something to hide.”

  “Hold on.”

  She waited again, wanting to break something. Closing her eyes, she prayed that even now, the dispatcher was getting that info from the driver. Please, God, give me something.

  Finally, the woman came back. “Okay, I found the driver. Says he picked up a couple who seemed to be in a big hurry. He wanted his name left out of it, but he did tell me where he took them.”

  She wanted to jump through the phone and get her hands around the woman’s neck. “Where?”

  “The Day-Nite Motel in an area they call Cabbage Town.”

  Her heart clenched like a fist in her chest. Just as Kent had said, it sounded like a dive, and it was in the area she’d just come from. She touched her throat. “Did … did he know why she wanted to go there?”

  “He said they were talking about buying some dope.”

  That acid worked through her stomach again. “What about the person with her? I need to know what he looked like. What he said.”

  “Lady, I’m getting more calls.”

  “Fine. Then just give me a number where I can talk to the cab driver. I won’t drag him into this. He could help solve a murder and save a life. He’d be a hero. So would you.”

  The woman sighed. “I can’t give you his, but I’ll give him yours. Don’t know that he’ll call.”

  Barbara gave the woman her number and hung up the phone.

  “What?” Lance asked.

  Barbara felt the numbness of shock creeping through her. “It doesn’t make sense. If she was in the Infiniti, why would she need a cab?”

  “It could have happened like Detective Harlan said. The Infiniti dropped her off at the cabs.”

  “But that makes her look … guilty. Why wouldn’t she call for help? Why would she go to some fleabag motel with some guy? And who was he?”

  The phone rang, and she grabbed it up. A man with a Caribbean accent spoke. “Ma’am, dis is Bastian, de cab driver.”

  “Yes, thank you for calling.” She couldn’t catch her breath. “My daughter is eighteen, and she has long blonde hair. She’s about five-three and is very pretty.”

  “Yes, I picked up a blonde girl and de man she was with.”

  “What state was she in?”

  “Here, in Georgia.”

  “No, I mean, how did she act? Was she upset?”

  “She and her boyfriend seemed anxious, in a hurry.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Brown hair, not too tall.” That described half the people Emily knew.

  “Why did you take her to the Day-Nite Motel?”

  “Dey asked for it.”

  “Asked for that particular motel?”

  “Yes. I tole dem dey should not go dere, but dey wanted to. So I took dem and dropped dem off.”

  So, if that was Emily, she had willingly gone to a drug den without knowing a soul. And this man had left her there. She would make sure Kent followed up with him to make sure he hadn’t done something to Emily, himself. It would be easy enough to find out if he’d had another fare right after her, or if he’d called it a night.

  Her stomach was sick. When she got off the phone, she muttered, “I need to buy a gun.”

  “Got that right,” Lance said.

  The thought that this search could take her to even worse places than she’d already been filled her with dread and despair. How could Emily be sending them on a wild goose chase that took them into these hellish places?

  She caught her thoughts, pulled back. What was she doing? Blaming Emily? Emily hadn’t done this. She couldn’t have done this. She was a victim, wasn’t she?

  “I have to go to that motel. I have to go now.”

  “Mom, no! You can’t! He said it’s a drug den.”

  “I have to. She’s there!”

  “I won’t let you.”

  She grabbed her purse. “How would you stop me?”

  “Call Detective Harlan.”

  She closed her eyes.

  “Mom, he said he went there already.”

  “But he might not have talked to the right people. I need to see for myself.”

  “If you have to go, get him to go with you. You’re just a walking target in a place like that.”

  She got her bag and started for the door. “Don’t let anybody in.”

  “I will, Mom!” he yelled. “I’ll let everybody in. I’ll have a party for the reporters. I’ll catch a cab myself and go there, too, or get one of them to take me. I might bring a whole camera crew.”

  She swung back around. “Don’t you dare!”

  Tears glistened under his eyes. “You can’t trust me, okay? If you leave here, I’m going too.”

  “Lance, this is serious.”

  His cheeks were flaming. “You’re right, Mom. It’s dead serious.”

  She dropped her purse on the floor and leaned back against the wall. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I don’t want to lose my dad, my sister, and my mother!” he bellowed. “What’s gonna happen to me?”

  Her heart softened, and she realized how insane she had become. She had no right to jeopardize her life. She was Lance’s mother too. What good would she be for him or Emily if she gambled her own life — and lost?

  John, why did you leave me alone like this?

  Lance kicked the bed. “Call him, Mom. Call Detective Harlan. This is one thing you can’t do yours
elf.”

  She sighed. “All right, we’ll compromise. I’ll call him, but I’m going there too. I want to talk to those people. Someone there knows where she is.”

  “If you go, I’m going too. Period.”

  Her mind whirled with confusion. Should she go alone or wait for Kent? Should she take Lance or leave him? She’d have to be crazy to drag her son to a place like that, when she’d spent her life trying to keep him safe. But she knew he meant what he said. He would follow her there if she left him.

  Too spent to sort through it all, she decided to give in. “Okay, you can come.”

  There was no joy on his face. “Call him and we’ll go.”

  She called Kent then. He answered quickly. She told him about the cab driver. “I’m on my way to the Day-Nite Motel, Kent. I’d like for you to meet me there if you’re really interested in finding Emily.”

  “Barbara — ”

  “I’m going, Kent. That’s all I have to say.” Then she hung up and tossed her phone into her purse.

  twenty-five

  She was losing it. She must be, taking her fourteen-year-old son to a motel where people paid by the hour. The patrons who stood in the parking lot and lurked on the curb in front were the very types of people she’d tried to shelter her children from. As they pulled into the parking lot, she was glad she’d called Kent. But where was he? Was he calling her bluff, letting her go it alone?

  “Mom, this is really scary. Do you really think Emily would come to a place like this?”

  “Apparently, she did.” She pulled into the parking lot, eyeing the lit windows.

  Fear twisted her gut. Emily had been a child afraid of the dark. How was it that she could run so quickly into it now, choosing it over light?

  She felt queasy and wished she’d eaten some of those nachos. Her hands were weak as she pulled up to the front office and shifted the car into Park.

  “Those guys are giving us dirty looks,” Lance said, nodding toward a group of men standing in the doorway of a room.

  Her fear morphed into anger. Suddenly, they represented all the evil that had preyed on her daughter. Just let them cross me.

  “Get out. We’re going in.”

  Lance looked at her. “I thought we were waiting for Detective Harlan.”